


Puppetmaster

by mutemail



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: M/M, NSFW themes, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 13:33:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18447593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutemail/pseuds/mutemail
Summary: Just a bit of fun in the warehouse after-hours. Dwight chides a certain someone for poor behaviour.





	Puppetmaster

**Author's Note:**

> Lazy title based off that episode where Kelly applied for the minority executive training program. I was already thinking about writing something to spice up this pairing tag and inspiration hit me like a ton of bricks. This isn’t set in any particular season or point in time, just some self-indulgent mess. Sorry it is kind of short. Here we go!

Fingers card lazily though the fluffy honey-tinted locks of the kneeling man. It feels like it’s been forever down here, spittle dribbling down his lips and around Dwight’s fingers. Another thrust of the trio towards the back of his throat and he gags pitifully with tears rising in the corners of his eyes purely from stimulation. Jim barely has the sense in him to take one breath after another. All of his attention is currently devoted to the older man towering over him.

“You’re pathetic, really. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You look like some cheap whore from the outskirts of town. Disgusting.” Dwight dips his fingers in deeper to make a point while grinding his heel against the tent rising in Jim’s slacks.

The warehouse ceiling lights cast a glow around the crown of Dwight’s head. Ironic, Jim thinks, like some kind of an angel or saviour. He can feel a flush rising from the collar of his shirt to tint his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It takes a moment for him to recover from the added pressure, trying to draw back his mouth for a witty retort.

Dwight grips either side of his jaw with a sharp lifting motion. Anger burns in his eyes idly, tamed but vibrant, while he holds Jim in place.

“Ah, ah, ah,” comes in a chiding tone, “If I were you, I’d try and be a good boy, Jim.”


End file.
